Maternal Instinct
by Wanted For Deicide
Summary: Cloud's dealt with a lot of opponents before, but wasn't quite prepared for this... My first fanfiction, something I whipped up to celebrate joining the site. Constructive criticism appreciated.


"One would think that someone who could best Sephiroth three times could handle an angry old lady with a purse." Awakening to the sound of Vincent's voice, Cloud sat up in bed and groaned, rubbing the lump on the back of his head.

"I didn't want to _hurt_ her," he complained, staring balefully at the other man. Vincent, however, was impervious to any sort of stare, especially baleful ones. He uncrossed his arms and straightened from where he had been leaning against the wall as Cloud asked, "What did she even want? I don't remember much except that she was yelling a lot."

"Perhaps I had best start from the beginning…" Vincent replied.

*Three hours earlier*

Business was fairly slow at Seventh Heaven, especially for six in the evening, which was the time they usually got rushed. Tifa was of the opinion that everyone was scared of Vincent, as she had witnessed no fewer than six people come in, see him loitering in the corner, and leave, their walks quick and nervous. She wasn't going to mention anything, however, as Vincent showed up infrequently as it was. Besides, he had been speaking to Cloud for over an hour, and under most circumstances trying to get Cloud to hold a conversation that long was like trying to carry on a discussion with a table. The table simply didn't care, the conversation didn't go anywhere, and it was awkward for everyone else in the room. There were only about a dozen people in the bar, not counting the pair in the corner. Tifa dried the last glass in the batch of dishes she was doing and set it up on the shelf. Vincent was sitting rigid and upright in his chair like he was at a meeting, an half-full glass of sparkling water in front of him, while Cloud stood a few feet away like a soldier at attention.

Tifa smiled. Old habits die hard.

The door opened again and in walked something resembling an impossibly old lady, only older. Her hair was white and tied up in a bun, and she wore clothes that looked like they belonged in a classical painting. She was a sack of bones wrapped in skin so wrinkled it looked like a dried-out prune. She was stooped almost double, and hobbled up to the bar with the help of an intricately carved wooden cane.

"Is that blonde one Cloud Strife?!" she demanded in a shrill voice that hurt Tifa's ears, pointing at the man in question. Cloud turned at the sound of his name, glancing curiously at the woman. Tifa nodded.

"He's over there, Miss…?"

"Agitha," the woman replied quickly, as if Tifa would have some reason not to believer her. "I have something for Cloud Strife." She turned, her joints creaking audibly, and began tottering in his direction, muttering incoherently. Her gnarled fingers gripped the head of the cane harder, making her knuckles pop. Tifa winced. Cloud, not wishing to make her walk further than necessary, left Vincent's table and strode towards her. The two of them met just next to a messy table where two customers were finishing off a few drinks.

As short as Cloud was, Agitha had to look up, as she barely topped four and a half feet with her extreme stoop. She slowly lifted her head as though scanning him, and glared furiously up at the man.

"What did you need to give me?" he questioned carefully.

"Two things," she muttered, bracing her arm against her walking stick so she could rummage through her purse.

"What things?" Cloud asked, increasingly puzzled by the lady's engimatic behavior.

"This." She pullled out an old, wilted rose and handed it to him. Cloud took it after a moment's hesitation and stared at the dried flower uncomprehendingly. While he was inspecting it, Agitha gripped her walking stick with both hands and cried, "And THIS!" as she brought it upward with astounding force, smashing the wooden cane into the fork between his legs.

He bent double, clutching his midsection. His eyes bugged out, his mouth tightening into such a thin line that it almost disappeared as agony flashed across his face. Agitha raised her cane and began rapping it against his head with the strength of a woman a quarter her age, shrieking,

"You remember that flower? You remember? Sneaking by my grandaughter's house after dark and giving her a dozen roses! Thought you could get by me, didn't you?" Cloud stood there, trying to ward off the blows with one arm as he gripped his midsection with the other hand. The other occupants of the tavern just stood gaping, unable to comprehend what was transpiring. Even Tifa lost her head, standing behind the bar holding a wineglass and dishcloth, watching the two of them with her mouth open. Vincent simply watched them with his usual indifference and took a sip of his water.

Agitha's cane snapped in two as she brought it down on Cloud's head with both hands, so she seized her purse and began violently beating him with it. Judging by the heavy clinking and thunking sounds that resulted, the old Lady kept it full of some rather hard items.

"Hey… stop, I didn't…" Cloud managed, but the crazed woman continued screaming,

"I won't allow it! My grandaughter's going to walk down a church aisle in a white veil and get married to a doctor or a lawer! Me and her mum worked hard to do right by her, and I won't have that sweet girl running around in chains and leather and going to sleaze bars like a hoodlum. You stay away, y'hear me?! I won't have some filthy biker with a big sword and fancy sunglasses and big clunky motorcycle sweeping her off her feet!" Her purse swung wildly and struck two of the customers at the nearby table, shaking them from their daze. It was at this point that a few people recovered their senses. The customers, realizing that they were in danger, shot to their feet and scrambled away, knocking chairs over and scattering bottles and glasses in ther haste to avoid the wildly flailing purse. Vincent took another sip of his drink.

Tifa vaulted over the bar and rushed to help Cloud, the wineglass shattering on the floor where she dropped it. But before she reached him he stepped back in another attempt to escape his assailant, slipped on a shot glass that had been knocked on the floor, and toppled over backwards. He bashed his head on the edge of an overturned chair and was instantly knocked unconscious from the blow.

*Three hours later*

"So what happened then?" Cloud asked.

"Tifa managed to drag her off. Apparently you had made a delivery to her young grandaughter's house. Tifa showed her the reciept, who actually sent the flowers. Some doctor living in Kalm who was dating her. Agitha paid for the damages and apologized for the misunderstanding."

"So why did you just sit there?"

"As I said before, I assumed you could handle it."

"Well there wasn't much I could do after she hit me… you know, below the belt."

"Hmph. Perhaps. I suppose fighting Sephiroth wouldn't exactly prepare you for that particular techique. I take it you've never—?"

"Vincent?" Cloud interrupted.

"Yes?"

"Despite how much Shin-Ra bragged about SOLDIERS not needing to wear armor, they do have armor over that area, under their uniform. Also, she used a cane."

"I see." The two shared a moment of awkward silence before Vincent turned and left the room, his opinions of SOLDIER rather diminished. Cloud flopped back down on the mattress and pulled the covers over his head.


End file.
